Entranced (A PowerUp! Story) Page 6

  He wanted nothing more than to unzip his jeans and free his aching cock. Then he’d order her to please him, and she’d beg so prettily to swallow his cum… Talk about one hell of a fantasy.

  She lay between the downy blankets of nylon. “Ugh. I haven’t been sleeping on the ground in months. I’d forgotten how uncomfortable it can be.”

  He hadn’t. Jack had been through all kinds of shit during his days working for the government, and some memories never faded, like bivouacking in the jungles when hunting cartels no longer on Uncle Sam’s payroll. Other ugly memories flashed in his mind’s eye, and, as usual, Melissa’s face intruded. But unlike the other times when he’d rage when thinking of her, Heather’s face superimposed over Melissa’s. This time, he felt nothing but desire.

  “You okay?” She patted the spot next to her…in invitation?

  After pulling the lantern and his loaded pistol close, he set the alarm on his watch and turned off the light. He stripped off his jacket and sweater and joined her under the cover, conscious of her prime, curvy body inches from his. To keep himself from reaching for her—be professional, asshole—he linked his hands behind his head and stared at the black ceiling, wide-awake.

  “What’s wrong?” she asked in a whisper.

  “Nothing,” he said in a thick voice, unable to disguise his arousal. “Get some rest. I’ll keep an ear out for trouble. I’m a light sleeper.” At this rate, he’d have nothing but a crick in his neck and an unending hard-on before the morning was out. Fuck. Had he really thought he’d be able to sleep next to her? Even after walking through most of the night, the woman smelled like roses.

  Instead of rolling to her side away from him, she rolled closer. He felt her breath on his neck, and he tensed, unable to help it. Then the blasted woman put her hand on his chest. All the energy pulsing through the ground into him centered embarrassingly on his dick. He did his best not to react, until she started rubbing, brushing over his sensitive nipples through the thin cotton of his T-shirt.

  Amazingly, arousal mixed with a soothing sense of peace, and his troubles seemed to lighten the more she touched. He found himself slowly easing into a comfortable intimacy, even as a part of him warned to be vigilant, not to trust her. When she asked him to share his troubles, he answered with only the slightest hesitation.

  Chapter Five

  Resting on her side, propped up on her elbow, Heather continued to siphon the demons plaguing Jack. Such deep wounds, a bevy of negative energy holding the big man down. He growled, and he snapped, but he’d been aware of her and careful to keep a pace she could handle. Even their sex, explosive as it was, had been for her pleasure before he took his own.

  She sensed tenderness and love buried deep inside him, and though it wasn’t her place to explore areas in a person uninvited, she’d been itching to help him since they’d first met. It didn’t help that the Source stirred her to use her abilities. She’d felt almost on overload during their trek through the forest. But after dropping her pack, she felt a bit better, as if she could rest and not worry so much about everything.

  With the townspeople far behind, she and Jack had some time to just be for a while.

  He hadn’t been kidding about being hot. The moment she’d taken off her jacket and sweater, she’d started shivering. Even the cover over her hadn’t helped much. But a few seconds next to Jack, and she felt almost overheated.

  Touching him was more than an idea, but a necessity. She had to connect again, even though she’d been telling herself throughout their journey to let him go. The sex had been phenomenal, but Jack was a bit of an arrogant jerk. Yet everything inside her called to him.

  Now she took as much pleasure in sharing her energy with him as he no doubt felt from receiving it. He moaned under her touch and shifted on the ground. She wondered if he felt a tenth of the desire raging through her blood.

  The craving to know more about Jack begged, and she asked him to share, knowing he’d probably regret it later. But by then it would be too late, and she’d have already siphoned off the bad energy making him such a bear to deal with.

  “What do you want to know?” he asked in a gravelly voice.

  “Why don’t you like me?” She noted he kept his hands locked behind his head, which gave her that much more room to work. What an incredible chest. The man had muscles on top of muscles, and she wanted to do a lot more than touch.

  “I like you well enough,” he muttered. “Fuck. I like you a lot right now.” He shifted under her again, and she knew he battled the same desire she did. The knowledge relieved her worry that her extreme attraction might be one-sided.

  “Then why are you so mean to me?” Heather wasn’t used to men acting so brusque around her. Most of them wanted to please her, to do anything to get her attention. She had the famous Stallbridge looks—blonde hair, green eyes, and good bone structure. But Jack didn’t seem to like wanting her. “Are you mad you’re here?”

  “Yes and no.”

  He moaned when her hand lowered to his amazing stomach. Such tightly packed muscle. She wanted to bite his belly, to see if she could.

  “I don’t understand.” She drew away the anger festering inside him, the same energy that swelled whenever his thought patterns seemed to shift in a certain direction. Not for the first time did she wish she’d inherited her grandmother’s ability to read minds.

  “I didn’t want to look for you. Owen’s a pain in the ass, but he needed the help.” He sighed with pleasure when she slid her hand under his shirt and stroked his bare flesh. His belly, his pecs, his shoulders. The man was like a heater, and he felt so wonderful under her hand.

  “But when I saw you, I couldn’t say no,” he continued. “He gave me a picture, and something clicked.” He sounded baffled.

  Since she felt the same upon first seeing him, she understood his confusion.

  “I looked at the thing, like, twenty times a day. You’re hot, but damn, woman, it’s like I can’t stop myself from staring at you. I don’t know more than what Owen and you have told me about yourself. Except seeing you, kissing you… I feel like we’ve met before, like I’ve always known you. You know?”

  She nodded and realized he couldn’t see her. “I do. You feel familiar too.” And you make me so wet. The notion a stranger could get to her like that worried her. “Tell me about yourself.”

  “What do you want to know?” He arched into her touch and growled when her palm ran over his chest, grazing his tight nipples. “Fuck. Do that again.”

  She turned the featherlight caress into a deeper massage, stealing his pain as she eased his tired muscles.

  “Tell me anything. How did you get into the PWP? Were you always psychic? Have you ever been married? Do you have a girlfriend? Do you like your job?” Do you want me, or would any woman do? Is the Source making you attracted to me, or is it something else?

  “Honey, you keep touching me like that, and I’ll tell you whatever you want to know.”

  He sounded loopy, the way her most wounded patients often responded. The energy holding Jack down was powerful. Psychic wounds that ran deep.

  “Fine. PWP… I was sixteen when I realized I could do things others couldn’t. I was stronger, faster, had better reflexes and senses. I would have joined the Marine Corps except the government came to me first. I was in college at the time. I don’t know how they knew, but they sensed I was different. Some of the men in my family tend to be like me.”

  “Mmm-hmm.” She traced the muscles in his shoulders and biceps, getting a thrill at holding all that power under her hand.

  “I served in the CIA, did some badass ops, to be honest. But I needed more. I became a black-ops wunderkind. Then Admiral London found me. He’s a great guy.” Jack sighed and lifted a hand from behind his head. He reached under the top cover and fiddled with his jeans. “Keep touching me. Here.” He dragged her hand lower, to the gap at his pants.

  She knew what he wanted, and she had every intention of giving it to him.
The Source, the danger, Chronicles, none of it mattered right now but getting closer to Jack.

  “I will. Put your hand behind your neck again. Let me ease you.” Healing often put her patients in a suggestible state. The deeper the wounds, the easier they were to control when she worked on them. Jack did as she asked without protest, his low moan arousing in the extreme.

  She ran her hand down the front of his groin, scratching lightly at the curls surrounding his shaft.

  He hissed and bucked up, and she pushed his pelvis down again.

  “Oh yeah. More.” He tilted his hips up. “Take me out. I’m aching, baby.”

  “Tell me, Jack. Share yourself with me. Why do I bother you? Why are you so hurt all the time?”

  “I can do things. Things other people can’t.”

  His breathing became labored as she grazed his cock and continued to tease, massaging the base of his shaft and the taut muscle of his groin still trapped by his jeans.

  “They changed me, gave me drugs to enhance my abilities. I became stronger and better, but the side effects were hard. And then I left the PWP. Without the drugs to maintain my changes, I get overly aggressive. I have to work out to keep myself in control. That or fuck,” he growled. “I want to fuck you, so bad. You don’t know. And it’s worse, because…”

  She stopped touching him, needing to know more.

  “No, don’t stop,” he gasped.

  “Because why?” she urged and unbuttoned his jeans fully. He tilted his hips up without her having to ask, and she pushed his jeans down, freeing his heavy erection. She continued to push his pants down to his knees, enthralled that he’d gone commando. “Spread your legs as much as you can.”

  He groaned but pushed his knees apart, and she sat up so she could use both hands to cup him. His balls were hard yet soft, and so hot. Like his cock, thick and plump and full.

  “Yes. Oh fuck. Yeah. Kiss me there. Put your lips around me. You don’t know how many times I’ve dreamed this.” He moaned her name and pushed up into her hands.

  She nudged the shifting sleeping bag off them and slowly stroked him, learning his feel as she slid her hands up and down his long, fat shaft. Rubbing his balls and grazing his thighs, she continued to fondle him, loving how he followed her lead. His submission was so unlike the Jack she knew, the man who took charge of everything.

  “You want my mouth on you?” she whispered.

  “Yes,” he hissed.

  “Tell me what hurts. Why are you so angry, Jack?” she asked again, soothing his frayed anger with a psychic blanket of comfort, of safety.

  “Melissa,” he said on a curse and pumped in time with her hands. “Bitch was my partner. A person I trusted. And she set me up. Her lover invaded my mind, made me think things that weren’t true. She nearly killed me.” He groaned. “Damn it. Jump on. Suck me. Make me come. I’m hurting, and I’m so close…”

  She felt moisture over her palm, where his tip leaked. So aroused and thick. And she wanted to know more. “How long ago did this happen?”

  He tensed when she leaned closer and blew over his cockhead. She heard rustling and felt his hands in her hair. He didn’t push her, though. He waited.

  “Three and a half years ago,” he whispered.

  She licked his slit, and he shuddered and gripped her hair harder. Not enough to hurt but to show her he neared the edge of his control.

  “And?” she prodded, needing to know why he held himself back from her. Why he felt so empty and angry all the time.

  “And I found her too late. She was dead, killed by her lover, probably.” He rubbed her scalp. “Fuck. I don’t want to think about her. I hate her.”

  But you didn’t want her dead, did you? She felt his remaining pain, the real source of his hurt. It was more than rage, but a feeling of betrayal, and more, a sense of sadness. Jack seemed so tough and brutish. On the outside, he looked like a killer, a bear of a man who could crush his enemies with ease. Inside, he hungered for acceptance, even love. But he’d buried the need so far down, where it couldn’t hurt him anymore. Or so he thought. By shoving the pain so deep, he’d actually hurt himself more. He’d never be able to trust or love with that unease at his core.

  Heather refused to let it fester. Even knowing he might hate her later for taking advantage, she freed him from his pain. Psychically ripping away the ache of betrayal, she put her lips over his cockhead and took him as deep into her mouth as she could before she gagged.

  “Yes. Oh fuck. Please.” Jack surged up before bowing back down, his fingers tight on her head. He didn’t let go.

  Power hummed through them both, her energy entwined with his, and as she sucked and accepted the feel and taste of him, he started pumping into her mouth, small bits of his seed coating her tongue.

  “I’m gonna shoot hard inside you.” He sounded drunk. “Heather. Damn, girl. I knew you’d be like this. So beautiful. So fucking tempting. God, I want to eat you, then shove my cock deep and fill you all up.”

  He continued to tell her the many ways he intended to pleasure her as she gave him what he needed. Heather took as much joy from the giving as he did from the blowjob. And then he shouted and came down her throat, his hands hard on her head.

  “Coming. Coming so hard,” he groaned and emptied into her mouth.

  She swallowed him all, in lust and scarily in love with the large man finally starting to heal. Oh my God. In love. Wasn’t it too early to fall this hard this fast? This close to him, her energy felt the many places where he’d given of himself, only to be hurt in return. She couldn’t heal all of him, and she knew she shouldn’t. Much of what Jack had sacrificed over his lifetime made him the man he was today. But that psychic wound Melissa had left scarred unnaturally.

  Heather gave him back the heart that had been ripped apart, what should never have been taken to begin with.

  He shuddered as she sucked the last bit of cum from him, then pulled away. Heather stroked him with her hand, amazed to find him still half-hard and hotter than fire.

  The chill of night bit through her clothes, and she shivered, caught in the spicy taste of Jack Keiser and the mountain air.

  “That was so fucking good.” Jack sighed.

  She couldn’t see him with the flashlight off, could only hear his heavy breathing as he recovered from his orgasm. He didn’t bother pulling up his jeans, but he had to be cold.

  “Do you want me to zip you up?” she asked softly, knowing he had to be near sleep.

  “Not yet.”

  He shocked her with his fast movements. In the course of a few moves, she somehow found herself under him, her shirt and bra off and her jeans parting under his clever hands.

  “Jack. It’s cold.” But not the reason for her hard nipples.

  “You’re wet, aren’t you?” he asked, a slight slur in his words belying his fast movements.

  She felt bad for taking advantage of him, but he’d needed her help. Before she could answer, he shoved her jeans and underwear down to her thighs and put a finger inside her. She gasped at the intrusion, instinctively squeezing him inside her to keep him close.

  “Oh yeah. Wet and hot. You little tease. You know how much I want to eat this fine pussy.”

  He should have been worn-out from what she’d done. Instead he seemed more than ready to continue their loving.

  “Jack,” she protested. “You should rest…”

  “Not until I’m done. I need you.” He kissed her into silence, his finger moving in and out of her in slow thrusts. She squirmed, unable to help herself as he grazed her clit time and time again.

  Jack left her mouth and fastened his mouth to her breast.

  She would have shot off the ground if she’d had the strength. As it was, she managed to push more of her nipple into his mouth.

  “You like that. Good, me too,” he murmured, and she swore she felt him smile against her as he spoke.

  He continued to suck before turning to her other breast. His finger withdrew from inside her
, but before she could mourn the loss, he found her clit and started rubbing.

  She moaned and pleaded, begging him to end it. God, she needed to come.

  “Not until I taste you,” he promised. “Then you can come around me.”

  Hardly able to understand past the swirling energy raging inside her, she was dimly aware of him kissing his way down her belly. And then his lips were there, and he sucked her clit deep.

  “Jack,” she sobbed, overwhelmed. The man vibrated with psychic need. No longer in pain, but in desperation to connect. Except he’d already bonded to her on a level she couldn’t explain. As he’d said, it was as if they knew each other, had known each other, for years. He found her sweet spots, and she knew how much he liked to be teased, excited, even challenged.

  “Come over my mouth. Let me eat your pretty cunt,” he rasped, and his dirty talk enflamed her arousal.

  Before she could obey him, because God knew her body wanted nothing more than to explode, he licked her once more, then left her.

  “Jack, no…”

  “Shh. It’s okay. That’s it.” He covered her and plunged deep in the span of a heartbeat. Then nothing about him gentled. Jack fucked her hard, kissing her while his tongue invaded her mouth and he owned her body. “Let me fill you up, baby. All mine. Damn.”

  He rammed deep, and she couldn’t stop herself from coming hard, gripping him tight.

  The pleasure so intense she saw stars, and she continued to come until he ground against her and cried out, spilling inside her. He gripped her hips to hold her tight, and she swore she felt him touch her womb. Impossible, yet he stretched her, leaving her completely full of nothing but Jack.

  He pumped a few more times before stilling, and then he rained kisses over her cheeks, her chin, her lips. He kissed her shoulders and the top of her breasts, and then he leaned up, levering his weight off her.

  “I wish I could see you right now,” he said, his voice thick. He kissed her again. “You taste so fucking sweet. Heather, God, you’re amazing.”